Bit of a Pickle
by RainThestral93
Summary: When Hermione rises to the taunts of Gryffindor's resident gossips - Lavendar Brown & Parvati Patil - she doesn't anticipate getting herself into such a mess. "Kiss the next guy that comes into the Great Hall." It sounds simple enough, right? But what happens when you throw an unsuspecting International Quidditch Star into the mix?


Hermione was doing her uttermost best to ignore the gossiping teens sat across from her, but was finding it very hard to concentrate on the Transfiguration essay in front of her, to which she was making one or two last adjustments before she handed it in to Professor McGonagall that morning. The sound of Lavendar and Parvati's shrill voices in the morning were enough to put anyone off their pumpkin juice – which was why Hermione had given up trying to eat or drink anything. Her nerves for the upcoming test probably had something to do with it, as well.

Harry and Ron were sat further up the table, in animated conversation with Fred and George about Quidditch. Hermione sniffed; having never really understood the appeal of the sport herself, she didn't really want to become a part of that conversation, so it was with reluctance she resigned herself to eavesdropping on the Gryffindor gossipers' conversation.

"Dean Thomas told me he thought I was pretty in Herbology yesterday," Parvati simpered, twirling her fingers in her hair in that irritating manner that some girls do. It was all Hermione could do not to roll her eyes – she hated watching the way her peers became like putty as soon as you mentioned a boy's name. The hormones rife in the Great Hall were nauseating as it was, without having to hear accounts of peoples' decidedly more active love life than her own.

"Well that fifth year we saw in the library the other day asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him the next weekend we're allowed," Lavendar boasted, "and I imagine we probably won't do much talking," the girl drawled suggestively. Parvati cooed in what Hermione suspected was admiration, and the bookworm choked on her laughter, causing the other two girls to glare at her.

"What's so funny?" Lavendar bit at Hermione; he distaste for the Gryffindor bookworm mind numbingly apparent.

Hermione snorted, "We have an exam in Transfiguration in ten minutes and you're raving on about some fifth year you don't even know the name of?"

Lavendar sniffed, as if affronted. Hermione found herself wondering if the blonde was even capable of such emotion. "It's rude to eavesdrop; did nobody ever tell you that?"

Hermione found herself laughing at the mere hypocrisy of the situation. Because it wasn't like Lavendar Brown didn't listen in on conversations or _anything_.

"You're just jealous," sniffed Parvati snidely. It was all Hermione could do not to roll her eyes.

"Don't be silly," Lavendar teased, "She's never had a boyfriend, she's got no point of reference."

The other girl sniggered, and Hermione glared at them both. She was sick to the death of everybody assuming that she was nothing but a stick-up-the-arse prude.

"And how would you know _anything_about my love life?" Questioned Hermione. "We're not even friends."

"Too right," sniffed Lavendar. "But I bet you've never dated anyone, least of all kissed somebody."

"How dare you!" Hermione exclaimed, genuinely insulted. "I have you know I've kissed plenty of boys – I just don't make a habit of kissing and telling!"

"Is that so," snarled Lavendar, "Well in that case, I dare you to kiss the next boy that comes into the room."

A very angry Hermione lost the voice of reason that she prided herself on, and in the heat of the moment, rose to Lavendar and Parvati's taunts. "Fine then," she spat back. "I will."

* * *

Time stopped still, as none other than International Quidditch player, Viktor Krum swanned into the room, with his posse of girls trailing behind him.

Both Lavendar and Parvati's mouths fell open in shock. Of all the people that could have walked in at that instant; it had to be one of the most famous teens of the century, didn't it? Hermione was silently cursing, damning her blasted bad luck. But she was resilient, if nothing else – and when Hermione Granger made a bet, she followed through. Even if it meant facing some of the most dire consequences of her entire life, she thought bitterly to herself.

"You're not actually going to do it, are you?" Parvati's voice was quiet, as if the mere presence of the Quidditch star intimidated her. Lavendar gawked as Hermione got up from her seat, smoothing down her skirt. There was a wicked glint in both girls' eyes, and in that moment Hermione knew that she needed to shut them up – make them put a sock in it – so that they'd leave her alone once and for all.

Hermione began to walk the length of the great hall, taking large strides in case her nerves caught up with her. She swallows nervously, as her eyes travelled upwards from the stone flagstones, locking on some expensive looking leather loafers – her target. Hermione could feel her heart pounding manically in her chest at the anticipation of what she was about to do. Who on earth would have the nerve to approach Viktor Krum, star and heart throb of many, without precedence or an escape route? Hermione shook her head; she must be losing her marbles.

Before she could flee, her nerves catching up with her, Hermione bridged the gap between her and the stocky man, and crushed her lips to his.

* * *

Krum reacted in the way that you would expect any testosterone male to react given an impromptu kiss attack. Surprised, at first, he seemed to be unwilling to respond to Hermione's actions, his arms up in surprise, as Hermione continued her bombardment of his lips.

Slowly and surely, the Quidditch star relaxed, giving in to Hermione's yielding, and coaxing her own mouth open with his tongue. His hands came down to rest on the small of her back, drawing his attacker – not wholly unwanted, by the looks of things – closer to him.

There were catcalls and jeers all across the room, as people began to notice the scene that was unfolding. But these noises went over the heads of the embracing duo; for it was as if somebody had cast the Bubblehead charm, and they could hear nothing at all.

Ron looked up from his plate of sausages, his fork falling to his plate with a clatter, "Bloody hell!" He exclaimed, and Fred and George guffawed.

Lavendar and Parvati were now screaming hysterically, and a banshee would have probably had more chance of understanding them than an actual human being.

* * *

Hermione found herself entranced by the way Krum's lips countered the moment of her own – and she couldn't help but let out a breathy moan, which only meant the Quidditch star drew her closer. Finally forced apart by their need to breath, Hermione's eyes were as wide as saucers.

She looked up into the bemused eyes of the Bulgarian player, who was regarding her with a sense of bemusement and curiosity, her eyes wide as dinner plates.

Hermione Jean Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, reigning dictator of the school library and prude of the century, had just made out with Viktor Krum in front of the _entire_ school – including faculty members! Professor McGonagall would surely never look at her in the same way again – not to mention _Ron!__  
__  
_It was perhaps for these reasons, Hermione fled from the Great Hall, at an alarming rate, hoping to escape her embarrassment and chance across a large, bottomless pit which would inevitably swallow her up. But as her bad luck would have it, she found no such thing. Hermione Granger, by the looks of things, had gotten herself into a bit of a pickle!

* * *

**A/N:** So a little one shot - what did you think? :) - Beth xx


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